Lineage
by fjorgyn
Summary: After years of traveling to escape her past, Hilda has finally returned to her homeland to settle down. While trying to cross the border, she is arrested and thrown in to a fate that she nor anyone she encounters can believe. As time goes on, she must look to the past and future to keep going, even if it makes her question all she's ever known. F!DB/Ulfric Stormcloak
1. fire

The wind blew against her, causing hair to blow behind her. Her steps slowed as she took in her surroundings.

No matter what happened in the lands, nothing could weather the beauty that is Skyrim.

Inhaling deeply and closing her eyes, Hilda felt something lift in her soul, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time: the feeling of being home.

* * *

"Let go of me!"

The shouting that had erupted caused a shockwave through the silent Legion camp. Eager eyes of prisoners followed the imperials that had gone to see the commotion. A pair of eyes that followed along belonged to the infamous Jarl of Windhelm.

Ulfric Stormcloak, similar his men, sat bound, gagged, and humiliated.

_Murder_, they slandered, he _**murdered**_ the High King.

Ulfric scoffed at the accusations. He, like any true **Nord **would, challenged Torygg. A fair match of a man's skills versus another man's, and he had won, Voice or not. And he would defend his lands until his last breath from any that would bow down to the puppet empire that ruled over them.

Skyrim needed it, he could say, but it doesn't mean that he, himself, didn't regret killing Torygg. He was a man, despite what the Empire spouted out.

Nearing shouts brought his attention back to the reality, his eyes raised to meet the group of soldiers entering the area.

When he saw what they were struggling with, Ulfric couldn't help but lose his train of thought.

Her hair was like fire, the strands flying about as she struggled against her captors. Her light eyes were like ice, cold and accusing towards the soldiers around her. Her armor, what was once shined steel, was dirty and scratched. Her sheaths were empty, the weapons most likely taken when she was captured.

The soldiers simply pushed her onto the ground in front of their commanding officer, who smirked at the new arrival. "_Prisoner_," he began in a dark voice, his dark eyes not hiding the satisfaction, "you were caught trying to cross the border from Cyrodiil in to Skyrim illegally."

"I was not!" She spat, "I had full permission to return to my homeland, as any other gods forsaken person on Nirn."

"Quiet, Nord!" He shouted.

The woman frowned, "I had the papers! The idiot who arrested me took them! I've committed no crimes."

The imperial was quiet for a moment before he sneered, "Take her belongings, bind her hands, and make sure she's ready for the cart with the others. She's most likely a bloody Stormcloak."

Ulfric scowled when the man simply dismissed her. Two soldiers, following orders, hauled the red head up by her arms and secured her as more soldiers came to the aid.

Despite the struggle, the Jarl didn't miss the smirk she wore as she threw her head back and proceeded to head-butt the approaching soldier.

The fiery Nord was quick to throw off the others that held her in ground and quickly knock a few unconscious with her steel-covered fists.

"Shor's bones…" A man voiced beside the Jarl. "She's wild."

The woman, who had fended off the first wave of attackers, looked up quickly with a scowl. "Gods damn you!" She shouted, throwing off her gauntlets and retook her defensive. Her brows furrowed and her palms seemed to turn red.

Flames.

_A mage?_ Ulfric pondered, watching the woman as she began her new attack. Several imperials screamed as they met the flames head-on.

"She's a bloody mage!" A soldier cursed.

"No," the lone female in the captured group said softly. "She's not a mage. See how she keeps stopping her attacks?"

A few of the Stormcloaks nodded.

"She can't cast the spells long at all. She's no mage."

Ulfric's gaze didn't leave the redhead as she fought. Her steps were slower and her body seemed to shrink from the original stature of complete confidence.

The captain only hit her once with the blunt side of his sword, sending her plummeting to the ground.

Her head was low as she tried to stand again, but the captain's swift kick kept her grounded.

_No_, his green eyes widened as he watched her hand raise and her head lull.

"You win," she said weakly. "I submit."

The captain didn't move for a moment before he quickly clubbed her with the handle of his sword. He stood above her limp body for a moment before he motioned for the others. "Bind her legs as well," he simply said before retreating to his tent.

Ulfric and his soldiers watched as the woman was hauled over the shoulder of an Orc legionnaire and taken away.

The group of captives was silent as they waited for their return. Each seemed to be struck silent until one voiced their opinion on the treatment of the woman.

"No mercy," he spat, eyeing the captain's tent darkly.

"Don't you think it would have been the same with us? She's lucky she's not dead." Another laughed darkly, "She's blessed already."

"Not for long though," The first sighed. "Who knows what those damn fateless imperials have planned for us."

"Talos be with us." The lone woman mumbled and nodded in agreement.

The group went silent again as the Orc came back and deposited the new prisoner near the other prisoners. He quickly bent and tied her ankles together before he left the area, presumably to head to his own tent for the night.

The other prisoners soon began to mutter in hushed tones while Ulfric's gaze went to the unconscious woman.

The cut on her temple had stopped bleeding, but a fresh bruise was beginning to sprout around it. The blood on her face had been smeared and slightly cleaned off, but it remained. Her peaceful expression seemed to deny any of the struggles she had faced earlier.

Ulfric actually pitied her.

Here was a warrior returning home after a long journey, or so it seemed. She was innocent, he could tell. Her fight was to defend her own honor against the imperial fools.

They simply pinned her as one of his _rebels_.

There was one thing Ulfric knew one thing for certain: he'd be proud to have a woman like that fight for him.

* * *

Hilda let out a soft groan as she came to, quickly squinting her eyes from the bright sunlight. Her vision slowly adjusted as she slowly looked around.

"Ah, you're finally awake," a voice startled Hilda, wincing when she snapped her gaze back in front of her too see a blonde Nord. "You were caught trying to cross the border, yeah?"

She slowly nodded, her brows furrowed in a bit of suspicion, "Aye." After a moment, Hilda averted her eyes from the man in front of her, eyeing each of the other occupants until the one next to her.

The man seemed to be confident. He had an air to him that made any question of his status clear: he was above any. Hilda didn't even need to look at his clothes to know he was important. But it was odd seeing someone gagged.

_Had he spoken out against the empire? The Thalmor?_

His eyes met hers and her expression eased slightly.

"Ulfric? Jarl of Windhelm?" The voice droned on, but Hilda's eyes widened.

"You are Ulfric Stormcloak," she said softly. Her eyes softened and she turned to face the upcoming walls of Helgen. "Then it's already been settled for us."

The closer to the gates the wagon got, the more dread filled Hilda.

"What about you?"

Hilda looked to the blonde Nord across from her, "What?"

"Where are you from?" He repeated, a lost look began to overcome him expression.

The redhead smiled softly, "Windhelm." She said softly, "My family was from Windhelm." Her gaze went to her bound hands, "Not anymore though… it's all gone now."

Hilda closed her eyes and prayed to the divines until she felt the wagon jerk to a stop.

_Divines,_ her eyes opened as she stood with the others and began to move forward. Names were being called and the group around her grew smaller and smaller.

"You," the Legionnaire looked to her, "who are you?"

_Let me be with them once more._

"I am Hilda Stormborn of Eastmarch."

* * *

_Firstly, I'd like to thank you for reading this fanfic. This is my first published Elder Scrolls piece, and to be honest, probably won't be my last. I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while and I've finally decided to type it out and do something with it._

_Lineage is Hilda's story of becoming the hero that the Dragonborn should be, but also finding out how her family's past fits in to the modern events in Skyrim, but also with the empire itself. More of her past will be revealed as time goes on. Also, I'll mostly be focusing on the Main and Civil War quests, but I may mention a few more._

_This story will mostly be centered around Ulfric and Hilda, the POV in this was mostly Ulfric's, but that won't always be the case._

_Reviews and ideas are always welcome!_


	2. Dragonborn I

"Bloody claw's more trouble than it should be," Hilda muttered as she tossed the golden claw into her pack with the other _valuables_ she'd managed to collect throughout the barrow. She situated herself in the armor she had stolen off a bandit, which was well too big on her, before heading through the puzzle door.

Much to her surprise, the scenery around her completely changed.

No longer were there endless crypts and roaming draugr, but an open chamber with a small stream. Hilda eyes roved over the main chamber with a smile on her lips.

_And they had always warned us not to go in the tombs._

Slowly, Hilda began to make her way across the small land bridge when she felt some something come over her.

Her body seemed to move on its own as she made her way up the steps and faced the wall of another language. Tentatively, Hilda moved closer to the wall. With each step, her vision seemed to darken until a certain group of symbols seemed to be illuminated.

As if it were a gust of wind, power seemed to burst from the wall and pushed against her. Hilda struggled to keep her balance as she finally felt the full power of the strange force.

The redhead let out a strangled breath as she collapsed before the wall, the world around her going silent.

* * *

Days had passed and not a single word.

"Good for nothing milk drinkers," Galmar spat as he read the most recent note from the group he had sent after Ulfric went missing. "Still need their mother's tit to-"

"Galmar," Yrsarald said from behind him, nearly giving the second-in-command a heart attack.

Galmar threw him a dirty look and was going to give him a stern "piss off" before he noticed the officer's eyes were elsewhere. Quickly, Galmar snapped his gaze to the throne room to see Ulfric taking his seat. The old man let out a laugh, "You mad bastard."

Ulfric nodded to his second, "Galmar, you been keeping the place in order in my absence?"

"Ysmir, where in Oblivion have you been?"

"We were ambushed." Ulfric said simply.

"No, I thought you went to Whiterun for a nice chat with Balgruuf." The housecarl said in a dry tone.

The Jarl rolled his eyes, "They took us to Helgen to be executed, even brought along _Elenwen_." This name rolled off his tongue with a poisonous tone. His fingers tightened on the arm of the throne.

"Helgen?" Galmar crossed him arms, "They men have been saying there's been a dragon attack there. That true?"

Ulfric nodded, "I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, friend."

Galmar was quiet for a moment, "How'd you make it out?"

Ulfric smiled a bit before he responded, "Guess the gods want me here."

* * *

Gradually, Hilda regained consciousness in time to hear the final crypt open. With curses spewing out of her mouth, the red haired Nord stood to her full height and prepared for battle with the rising draugr.

The draugr let out what seemed to be a taunt before it began to run towards her.

With eyes narrowing, Hilda met the undead's sword with her own, quickly twisting to shove the iron dagger in her other hand into his chest.

The draugr let out a cry before trying to swing at the woman again, "_Dir Volaan!_"

Hilda let out a sharp breath as she side-stepped the ancient sword. She quickly lunged towards the undead with her sword.

Unnatural eyes locked on to her as the draugr took a firm stance. The long-rotted shoulders moved back. As Hilda approached, the unliving snapped his body forward, familiar words leaving him: "_**Fus Ro Dah!**_"

The red haired warrior faltered in her approach as the strange magick pushed against her. She let out a frustrated growl as she staggered back, glaring at the beast. As quickly as she could move, Hilda stomped on the draugr's boot and paused for the reaction she needed, and got. The draugr's attention was drawn to his boot as he backed away, lowering his sword. As the undead moved, Hilda quickly brought her sword up, swinging it in an arc.

Waiting for a moment, the red haired Nord finally allowed herself to breathe when she heard the body hit the stone at her feet. She quickly looked to see the headless body and the head coming to a halt not too far away from the rest of the now dead draugr. Shaking her head, Hilda wiped off her sword and dagger on the little fabric that remained on the draugr, placing them in their appropriate sheaths when they met her satisfaction.

Casting another look at the motionless body, the red head gave in to the urge to loot whatever he had left.

"What in Oblivion…" she lifted to large stone that had been buried in the poor man's rib cage. After closer inspection, Hilda's eyes widen slightly. "A map… but for what?" she mumbled to herself as her hand brushed the strange craving on the bottom of the stone tablet. Her brows furrowed as she looked up to the giant wall in front of her.

_Dragons._

After a moment to fully pack away the stone, Hilda stood and looked around the area for anymore treasures before she finally decided to leave the barrow.

Her walk back to Riverwood was calming after the seemingly endless battles she faced in the ancient Nordic ruin. Pushing any thoughts of the tomb out of her mind, the woman focused on making it to the trader before dusk.

* * *

With a lighter pack and a heavier coin purse, Hilda stopped by the mill to bid farewell to Gerdur. As they spoke, she found out that Ralof, the man she escape Helgen with, had already left to rejoin the Stormcloaks in Windhelm.

His sister smiled as she told Hilda that he truly wanted her to go to Windhelm to fight for Ulfric's cause.

Hilda couldn't help but shake her head and laugh at the man a bit.

After bidding Gerdur farewell, Hilda began her walk to the hold's capital, Whiterun.

The path to the city seemed almost eerily peaceful. The warrior kept her hand on her sword at all times, her eyes roving her surroundings almost constantly.

"Farkas!" A woman screamed in the distance, causing Hilda to jump.

There some deep breathing from in the tree line before a deep voice boomed a response, "I'm fine!"

"Great job, icebrain." Another woman shouted.

An annoyed growl came from man as he exited the wooded area.

After a moment, Hilda heard heavy stomps coming from the direction the voice were coming from. With a confused look, the traveler moved into the line of trees as quietly as she could. She held her breath when she saw the giant being fought by three warriors.

Looking to her left, a small smirk spread across her lips when she noticed the small home. Remaining in my crouched position, the red head sneaked to the home and found a climbable ledge. Once on the roof, Hilda cautiously moved closer to the battle as she fished out her bow and quiver of steel arrows. Taking a deep breath, she took aim at the beast and released the first arrow.

The giant let out a cry as the arrow embedded into its shoulder. Its gaze fell on Hilda, who had already notched back another arrow and aimed it at the giant's neck.

"Come on then," she muttered as she waited for it to move.

The giant rumbled the land as it began to bound towards the home.

Hilda cursed as her aim faltered, the arrow sailing past the giant and into the dirt. She quickly stood and took out her dagger.

Noticing her distress, the dark haired man was the first of the three warriors to react as he let out a battle cry and ran towards the giant, his steel sword ready.

"Get the beast's attention!" Hilda shouted, "I have an idea of how to bring him down!"

"Got it!" The man replied as he swung at the giant's leg, which the creature retaliated with a swift punch towards the man.

Hilda leapt from the roof and on to the giant's back.

With her arms tightly wrapped around the giant's neck, she was able to stay on the beast as it struggled to get her off. Quickly, the red head readied her dagger and slit the creature's throat.

Hilda quickly loosened her hold and her feet met the ground.

After regaining her breath, the three other warriors slowly began to approach her, "You handle yourself well. You could make for a decent Shield-Sister." The auburn hair woman said, smiling a bit.

Hilda raised a brow, "Shield-Sister?" She looked at each of the three, "You must be members of the companions."

Each nodded.

"They're taking in new recruits?" The traveler asked with a brow perked.

"Aye," the lone man replied. He nodded to the Imperial woman, "She's the newest member."

The woman nodded a bit sheepishly with a smile.

"If you're thinking about joining, go talk to Kodlak Whitemane up in Jorrvaskr. The old man's got a good sense for people. He can look in your eyes and tell your worth. If you go to him, good luck." The auburn haired Nord said before she nodded to the other two and made their departure.

Hilda remained there for a moment, "Why not?" She said to herself after her contemplation.

* * *

Approaching the home of the Jarl, Dragonsreach, Hilda couldn't help but pause to admire the Nordic architecture. Entering the lone building in the cloud district was a new experience entirely.

The Jarl, seated at his throne, was in the midst of _discussing _Helgen with his steward.

"My lord. Please. You have to listen," the Imperial pleaded. "I only counsel caution. We cannot afford to act rashly in times like these. If the news from Helgen is true... well, there's no telling what it means."

The Nord frowned deeply, "What would you have me do, then?" He paused, "_Nothing?_"

"My lord. _Please_. This is no time for rash action. I just think we need more information before we act. I just..."

His eyes went to her, causing Hilda to freeze. "Who's this then?"

A Dunmer approached with her weapon drawn, "Speak your reason for interrupting this court," she spat at the Nord woman, her red eyes narrowed and her lip in a thin, disapproving line.

"Riverwood has sent me to ask the Jarl for protection." Hilda replied, looking to the Nord leader.

Balgruuf's brows raised, "It's all right, Irileth, I want to hear this."

The Dunmer scowled, "I've got my eyes on you." She spat before sheathing her weapon and walking back to her place beside the Jarl.

"Now, what is this about Riverwood being in danger?" The Jarl asked when the red haired woman stood before him.

"My Jarl, Gerdur has sent me to ask for protection after Helgen was destroyed by a dragon."

"Gerdur?" He paused, "she runs the lumber mill, if I'm not mistaken… Are you sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon?"

"Yes, my Jarl. I was there… last I saw it was heading this way." She admitted.

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" He paused before turning an angered looked at his steward, "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

The Imperial was stunned, simply blinking at his lord.

"My lord," Irileth spoke, "we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains..." Her words fell as she, as well as the Jarl and the traveler, thought of the outcome of a dragon attack on Riverwood.

Proventus finally found his voice and objected, "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!" He cried, "He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him."

"Enough!" The Jarl shouted, "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

The Dunmer sported a victorious smirk as she replied with a simple "yes, my Jarl" and began to walk out of the hall, presumably to the guard post.

Proventus, again, tried to protest, "We should not-"

"I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!"

Hilda blinked at the Jarl's outburst.

Like a scolded dog, Proventus quickly mumbled about getting back to work before he walked out of the room with his tail between his legs.

Hilda snorted as quietly as she could.

_Milk drinker._

"Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it." He paused, "I must know your name."

Blinking, the red head straightened her posture, "I am Hilda Stormborn, my Jarl."

Balgruuf was taken aback, "Stormborn?" He examined her for a moment, taking in each of her feature before he smiled. "I never thought I'd see another Stormborn in my presence again."

Hilda smiled sadly, "Is there anything else I can do for you, my Jarl?"

"Actually, there is." He said as he stood, "Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and," he paused, "rumors of dragons." He motioned for her to follow, which she did. "Farengar... he can be a bit... difficult. Mages, you know."

The Jarl and the traveler entered the mage's area to find him cursing over his desk.

"Farengar," the Jarl boomed, causing the court wizard to jump. "I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Fill her in on the details."

Hilda listened intently until he brought up the strange stone. "Hold on," she said as she opened her pack and removed the stone. "I hope you're talking about this map." She stood and handed the tablet to Farengar.

"Incredible," he whispered, "this is it! My client will be very satisfied, and this will help immensely in my research."

"What, exactly, does it show?" Hilda asked, motioning to the small markings. "I could tell it was a map of Skyrim… but those marks."

"There are rumors that they represent ancient-"

"Farengar! Jarl Balgruuf!" Irileth came running into the room, "There's been a dragon sighted attack at the western watchtower!"

Balgruuf and his loyal court wizard hurried upstairs to the briefing room while Irileth persuaded Hilda to come along. Much to her regret, Hilda agreed.

"It was fast! Faster than anything I've ever seen!" The guard recounted.

"What did it do?" The Jarl questioned, "Did it attack the watchtower?"

"No, my lord, it was just circling overhead when I left." He exhaled shakily, "I've never ran so fast in my life. I thought it would come after me for sure."

"Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it." He patted the guard's back lightly before turning to his housecarl, "Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there." He looked at Hilda, "And take our new friend here."

Hilda raised a brow.

"I'm sorry to do this to you again, but you've had more experience with dragons than anyone else here."

Hilda sighed, "I will do my best, Jarl Balgruuf."

He smiled and lightly pat her head, "I know you will, friend."

As the conversations continued around her, Hilda turned to the stairs, her eyes wide.

_I'm going to die._

* * *

Ulfric stood beside Galmar as they stared at the map of Skyrim. The little blue and red markers infuriated the Jarl of Windhelm to no end.

"He'll come to his senses soon, Galmar." Ulfric said after a moment, "Even with his temper, Balgruuf knows what's right."

"_Knows what's right?_" Galmar sputtered, "The only thing that son of a bitch knows is to kiss ass for gold."

Ulfric sighed and rubbed his temple.

The silence in the room was suddenly broken by a thunderous call: "_**DOVAHKIIN!**_"

Ulfric's head snapped back to looked out the window, his brows were furrowed deeply and his eyes wide in shock.

"What in Shor's name was that?" A few collective voices exclaimed, one belonging to Galmar.

"The Greybeards." Ulfric replied. He slowly turned to face his second in command, "They were summoning the Dragonborn."

* * *

_And here is the second chapter of Lineage!_

_Sorry it took me so long, I had a bit of trouble finding long stretches of time that I could write and meet all the things I outlined for this chapter, which I luckily succeeded in doing._

_I'll be trying to post a new chapter every week, but this is truly permitted by my job and motivation, but I do have a bit more time since I'm no longer fretting over my summer course!_

_Any who, as last time, reviews and ideas are always welcome!_


	3. Born of the Storm

"_You… I've seen you…" there was a slight pause, but the man's voice came again soon, sounding more shocked, "Let me see your face."_

_Her vision flickered to see an elderly man; his gray hair framed his aged face and his piercing blue eyes were speculating._

"_You are the one from my dreams…." His voice wavered a bit as he gazed upon her. His mouth closed into a thin line. "The stars were right," he paused, nodding slightly. "This is the day… Gods give me strength."_

_Time almost seemed to speed up and skip as the scenery changed and the sounds seemed to crash together into a seemingly endless roar. It all halted when she lifted her hand to see a large, red amulet resting in her palm._

_Her breath caught in her throat._

_ "No!" A blood-chilling scream rang out, causing Hilda's head to snap up._

_She watched as a woman with similar fiery hair fell to her knees. Her shined armor had soot and smudges on it, her helmet rolling out of her grasp. Her expression was molded from pure horror._

"_Gods, no," she exhaled heavily. "Martin!" She screamed before she bent forward, her shoulders shaking._

_Casting a gaze up, Hilda couldn't help but gasp as she took in the stone avatar of Akatosh before her._

* * *

Hilda awoke with a start.

She jerked upright and looked around in the dim light dawn provided.

"You alright?"

The red head snapped her gaze on Delphine, who stood of few paces away, adjusting her leather armor. "Yeah…" She breathed a sigh of relief, the chill in the air causing her to shiver from her cold sweat. "Weird dreams."

The Breton examined her for a moment before nodding, going back to her own business. "It's been nearly two hours, we should get moving again. We're nearly to Windhelm."

The Nord simply nodded and got to her feet, picking up her pack that she had been using as a pillow.

After a few moments of situation and a number of comments from the smaller woman, the two were back on the road to the burial mound.

Hilda was exhausted, despite the rest she had gotten. Her body felt heavy, but her mind seemed to weigh more than she.

_Akatosh_.

She had one stood before Temple One in her travels. Saw the avatar herself and received its blessing. It would be a lie to say that it wasn't a moving experience… but it was nothing like the dream.

Hilda couldn't explain the feelings that had torn through her witnessing the red haired woman's despair.

_Hopelessness._

_Utter shock._

_**Hollowness.**_

The emptiness that filled her had been similar to one she had felt many years ago. When the dark haired woman was sprawled on the wooden floor beneath her, her abnormally pale skin sending chills down Hilda's spine, her paled lips moved, forming seemingly foreign words. Her hands tightly wrapped around her swollen midsection.

"Hilda!" A voice shook her from her thought.

The Nord's steps halted and she looked to the elder woman before her, who wore a concerned look. "Yes?"

"I told you that we're almost to Kynesgrove."

"Already?" The redhead asked, looking at their surroundings.

"Already?" The redhead asked, looking at their surroundings. "That was quick."

Delphine couldn't help but let out a snort at the other woman's reaction. "It's just down this road a ways."

"Shor's bones," Hilda shook her head, "it's been too long since I've been here."

The two continued on their way, a few wolves being left on the side of the trail here and there. Soon, the two women entered the small, Eastmarch town by dawn.

Instantly, Hilda bristled. "Something's not right..." She said softly, looking down the cobblestone road.

"Why do you say that?"

"The miners," she said softly. "They should be well on their way to the mines by now." She looked to the Breton woman.

Delphine nodded sharply before they began a quick pace up the path before a small group of civilians began to run past them.

"No! You don't want to go up there!" The innkeeper said in an exhausted breath. "A dragon's attacking!"

"Where did it go?" Delphine questioned, a hand moving to her sword.

The woman pointed up the path, "The ancient dragon burial mound," she turned to them with a terrified expression, "Gods be with you both."

The dragonborn and her companion began to sprint up the path. Nearing the mound, Hilda was stunned to see the familiar black wings from not even a full week's time before.

The two women were quick to crouch behind a nearby rock in their approach, slowly peeking their heads around the small shelter to see the revelation happening before them.

A shout erupted from the black beast, that shook the world beneath the two warriors' feet.

Delphine snapped her gaze to the mound in shock as the bones slowly began to break from the dirt below. With the sound of cracking ash, the scales slowly began to mold on the once dead dragon, "_By the Gods._"

Hilda's eyes never left the dragon flying overhead, the conversation between the dragons were lost to her, but when the black beast casted his red eyes on the rock, she froze.

_He knows we're here._

* * *

Ulfric awoke with a start.

A small bottle of ink tipped over from the movement, ink slowly crawling across the parchment and the quill fell from his fingers.

"Damn," he muttered, looking at the ink smudges on his arms and hands and back to the black puddle. He sighed looking to the now ruined letter that had served as his head rest through the few hours of sleep he had received. He stood, walking to the water basin and began to scrub the ink from his skin.

He had received several letters from the Greymanes in Whiterun, describing the Jarl's _neutrality_.

He sighed as he shook the water off his hands.

"Ulfric!" Galmar's booming voice came from down the stone hall. "You need to get down here."

A small frown formed on his lips as he turned to dress quickly. He brow furrowed as he exited the room, pondering what could be the matter. Entering the throne room, he noticed a few civilians surrounding stone throne. He noted the messiness of the bunch, finding it a bit unusual for people to approach a jarl in such a manner. "Galmar," he called to his housecarl, "What has happened?"

"They're from Kynesgrove. You might want to listen to them." The second-in-command said simply. "I can't even believe it."

His brown seemed to furrow more as he approached his throne.

An aging woman turned to him with a look of fright, "My Jarl!" She nearly cried, "Please, you must send troops to defend our home from that **beast**!"

"Beast you say?" He raised a brow, "Tell me, what has happened?"

"A dragon has attacked our home!" A miner said, "I saw it as we ran from the town, Jarl Ulfric. Scales black as night..." The man shivered at the memory.

"What of the guards stationed there?"

"Most likely dead, my Jarl."

Ulfric sat back into the stone throne, his fingers kneaded his temple. "Galmar!"

"Yeah?" The housecarl looked up from his meal, his brow raised.

The Jarl straightened a bit, his hands falling to the armrests of the throne, "Send a detachment of men to Kynesgrove to investigate this dragon business. Make sure these people are safe to return home."

Nodding, Galmar stood from his seat and swiftly moved towards the barracks.

"Had there been any other things that happened?" The jarl looked back to the civilians.

A chorus of 'no's rang between them until a young woman tentatively stepped forward, "Yes, Jarl Ulfric. As we left the town, there were two women coming up the path... I told them to turn back, but they charged right up to the burial mound."

Ulfric was shocked, "Was anything unusual about them?"

The woman shook her head, "They seemed like common travelers."

Ulfric dismissed the civilians, his mind still trying to wrap around the entire situation.

_Dragons truly have returned._

The jarl quickly stood and rushed back to his chambers, grabbing a new bottle of ink on his way. He retrieved a new roll of parchment from his bookcase. After smoothing the paper on his desk, he began his letter.

* * *

Swiftly, Hilda bounded out of the way of the stream of fire that escaped Sahlokniir's fearsome jaws. She let out an exhausted breath before readying her sword and lunging out the worm.

Delphine let out a cry as she leaned back onto a boulder, praying to the divines it would provide at least a little protection while she healed her wounds. Her labored breaths were the only thing she could hear as she dug through her pack to find the familiar red elixir. She let out what could only be called a sigh of relief as she tore the cork off and gulped down the bitter potion.

Tossing the emptied bottle aside, the Breton laid her head back as she began to feel the effects of the healing potion. Slowly, Delphine shifted in her position to watch the fiery haired Nord hop on to the dragon's bowed head.

Quickly trying to balance herself, Hilda lifted her sword high. After a moment to regain her composure, she thrusted her blade down and began to hack the beast's head. Blood began to run down her face as if it were sweat, her fierce grimace never faltering in each baneful blow she delivered to the dragon.

"Hilda!" The Breton shouted as she noticed the beast preparing to retaliate.

The Nord narrowly escaped a nasty fall that the beast had been preparing to deliver. She landed on the ground before the beast with her bloodied sword still in hand.

"_Dovahkiin,_" the beast hissed.

Narrowing her cold glare, Hilda steadied herself before launching herself forward, plunging her sword deep into the dragon's gullet.

Delphine slowly stood, never taking her eyes off the woman and the fallen dragon. "Wait," she said, beginning to stop towards Hilda, who was removing her sword. "Something's happening."

The red haired Nord slowly backed away from the crackling carcass.

"By the Gods," the Breton exasperated as she watched the very soul of the dragon rip from its body. The soul itself was visible, slowly trailing through the air and being absorbed into her companion's body. "It's true." She said softly, "You really are dragonborn."

Hilda looked to the blonde woman, "You owe me some answer, yeah?"

Delphine nodded, "I guess I do."

"Who are you and what do you want with me?"

"I'm one of the last members of the Blades. I've been waiting to meet a dragonborn, like you, for a while."

Blinking, Hilda looked gave the Blade a confused look, "I thought the Blades were the emperor's personal bodyguards."

"_Were_." Delphine annunciated. "The Great War ended that. The Thalmor hunted us down and exterminated us."

"Because you guarded the Septims?" The dragonborn concluded.

The blonde woman nodded, "We were a threat to their Talos-free religion."

The redhead was quiet for a moment, "So what happens now, Delphine?"

With a bit of a smile, Delphine began, "The Thalmor has to be behind this somehow. And we're going to find out what they've done."

Hilda sighed, "Time to go to work, I guess."

"Aye," the older woman nodded, "it's time to work."

* * *

There she was again.

The hooded stranger.

Ulfric furrowed his brows as he entered the throne room from the briefing room, Galmar a few steps behind him. It was the third time in the last day that he had seen the mysterious woman talking to his steward.

After the woman exited, once again, Ulfric's curiosity got the best of him. "Jorleif," the jarl called.

The red haired man perked at his name, "Yes, Lord Ulfric?"

"Who was that?"

The man blinked, "Oh, her? She didn't give a name. She's helping solve those murders though, praise the Gods." He paused, "Though, she asked an odd question when she first came in."

The leader of Eastmarch perked a brow, "And what was that?"

The steward paused in his response, trying to understand the question himself. "She asked about the Stormborn home."

Ulfric blinked, "The Stormborn home?"

He nodded, "She asked if anyone had been there since the murders."

The jarl was quiet for a moment, processing the information.

"Why in Oblivion would anyone want to know about those ruins?" Galmar shook his head.

"It's her home." Ulfric said, turning from the other two men to make his way to the table for supper.

The second-in-command snorted, "Horse shit," he laughed. "Ulfric, they're all dead. They've been dead for… how long? Twenty years now?"

"There was a woman in Helgen," the man recounted. "She claimed to be a Stormborn of Eastmarch."

"She's lying."

"No," Ulfric massaged his temple, "she's the spitting image of Ragnar."

Galmar stood there, stunned. His mouth would occasionally open to give some sort of explanation, but would quickly shut. After a few moments, he simply said: "By Ysmir's beard."

The jarl could only nod. "I would guess she's not the only Stormborn, if you want to be truly accurate."

Galmar shook his head, "Not this again, Ulfric."

Jorleif furrowed his brow, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

The two other men looked at the steward with shocked expressions. "Get out of this damn Palace, Jorleif." Galmar nearly spat before returning to the briefing room.

Ulfric laughed a bit before turning to Jorleif, "The Stormborn blood runs in my veins as well, friend."

The steward frowned, "The Stormborns haven't been in powers-"

"Aye, Aye," the jarl waved the man's disbelief, "It's a long story. Yes, it's true, the Stormborns haven't ruled Windhelm for eras, not since Ysgramor's bloodline ended. You see, the Stormborns were a clan within Ysgramor's five-hundred companions that had aided the settlement of Windhelm. They were powerful enough to stake claim to the throne of kings during the war of succession and that lasted for generations. When Arne came to power, he had married Groa, from another family. When he died in battle, she took control of Windhelm and of the Stormborn family.

"Gram, Arne's younger brother, believed that an outsider should never have a claim to the head of the family and of Windhelm. He rose against Groa and was able to sack Windhelm with his family and declare himself king. Groa stripped him of the Stormborn name, creating two families. Groa's descendants ruled over the dwindling Stormborns while Gram's descendants ruled over Windhelm, the way it has remained since then."

"Why did Groa just let the city go?"

Ulfric sighed a bit, trying to grasp onto the tales he was told. "It was said that she, along with the rest of the Stormborn family, had enough with the bloodshed. She let him have his city to maintain peace, other say she and Gram were lovers and she was in too much heartache to fight back." Ulfric chuckled, "I doubt she would have sat idly back, though. She had the fiery hair to match her temper." He paused a moment before revealing a hint of a smile. "Ragnar was like that."

"Ragnar Stormborn, my lord?"

"Aye," the Jarl shook his head at the mention of the name. "Bastard was one of kind, but he was a good man. Quick tempered, but one of the best men to follow into battle… I met him while I was in the Legion. Poor bastard never left the war."

* * *

"Dragonborn," the speaker of the Greybeards came forward as the Nord woman entered the temple.

Hilda stopped before the elder man, lowering her head in respect, "Master Arngeir, I have retrieved the horn."

The aged man couldn't help but have a look at pride, "Follow me, dragonborn, it is time."

Hilda perked a brow, "Time? Time for what, master?"

"To formally recognize you as dragonborn." The man paused to take in the words he spoke, "It has been too long since such a ritual has happened." The elder turned slowly and began to make his way into the heart of the temple, were the other Greybeards had met.

The red head inhaled deeply before closing her eyes.

After a moment, she exhaled. Reopening her eyes, she took the first step towards a fate foretold eras before her own time.

She was no longer simply Hilda Stormborn.

She was dragonborn; her body was of man, but her soul was of the ancient beasts that used to rule the lands she walked.

She was first dragonborn in ages, but she was also the last the world would ever see.

* * *

_Holy cow I am so sorry to make everyone wait almost two months! I've gotten busy, as of late, and I've started school again._

_Anyways, this is what I managed to write over the period of time and be sure to look for updates or even follow the story, because there will be some._

_And I covered a lot about Hilda's family, and this is why she claimed she was from Windhelm in the beginning, but said she was of Eastmarch, if that makes any sense to anyone aside from me._

_Anyways, reviews are always welcome and I will be updating again soon!_


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